


Early Hours

by SolarMorrigan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, both Q and Bond need to sleep, but they're bad at it, obligatory Q in his pajamas fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 10:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: The middle of the night, Bond finds, is the best time to learn something new about a person





	Early Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Another old one. Not quite Q doing a lot of damage in his pajamas, but inspired by the line nonetheless
> 
> Originally posted here as part of a collection, which I've deleted; if you left kudos or a comment for this fic there, please know I've saved them to look upon and cherish (also, thank you)

MI6’s newest quartermaster was prone to eccentricities; everybody knew that. Anybody who spent more than half an hour with him knew that. But genius was always allowed some leeway, and genius Q had in spades.

And yet, at the moment, Bond still found himself a little puzzled.

It was so early in the morning one might still call it late, and Bond had been passing by Q branch on his way out of the bowels of the building, only to notice it was rather more bright and clamorous than was usual for the hour. Unable to sleep, physically used up from a rigorous workout but still mentally wound tight, Bond had detoured into the realm of MI6’s technologically inclined in hopes of a suitable diversion.

What Bond found was the skeleton crew that made up Q branch’s overnight shift watching with some concern as their fearless leader buzzed around his workstation at the front of the room, hair wild and expression verging on a manic sort of concentration. He was dressed more eclectically than usual, in plaid flannel pajama bottoms paired with a graphic t-shirt so old and worn that the graphic was no longer legible and topped with an over-sized brown cardigan that did not match the expensive labels Q usually wore to work. The look was completed by heavy work boots that swallowed up the cuffs of the flannel bottoms. Bond couldn’t quite help the question that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Q, what are you doing?”

Q glanced up at Bond for just a moment, squinting as if he really wasn’t sure Bond was there, before looking back to his computer screen. “Working.” He snapped.

“In your pajamas?”

“I was in a bit of a hurry.”

Bond cocked an eyebrow and turned to the nearest tech, who in turn glanced up at Q before gesturing for Bond to come closer.

“009 sent out a distress signal; she’d been captured.” The tech explained quietly, “Q came in to handle the situation. That was almost two hours ago. 009’s out of harm’s way now, but Q still won’t  _leave_.”

The last few words communicated as much exasperation as concern and Bond nodded at the tech before approaching Q’s work station.

“Q, what’s 009’s status?” Bond’s tone, steady and commanding, demanded an answer.

“Various non-lethal injuries, shallow stab wound to the lower left abdomen that will require attention. En route to rendezvous point.” Q reported automatically, eyes never straying from the screen, “Medical is standing by.”

“ETA to rendezvous point?” Bond continued.

Q glanced over the screen displaying 009’s position on a sprawling city map. “Approximately two minutes.”

Bond nodded and, in the same tone that brooked no argument, told Q, “When 009 reaches backup, I will be taking you home.”

Q nearly nodded in return before withdrawing slightly from his haze, looking over at Bond. “What?”

“I said I’m taking you home.” Bond’s tone softened just a bit around the edges, “009 will be fine.”

“No.” Q shook his head, snapping back to the screens, “Once her injuries are seen to, I need to know if she’s fit to travel or if a hospital stay is necessary, if the mission can be salvaged or-“

“Don’t you trust your staff?”

“Of course I do.” Q snapped, though he seemed to be flagging a bit now that Bond had pointed out 009’s imminent safety.

“Then let them handle it from here. They’re more than capable of making travel arrangements.” Bond insisted.

Q opened his mouth, ready to reply, when 009’s voice came over the comm. “ _I’ve reached the rendezvous point. The med team is making grabby hands at me. I expect I’ll be fine from here._ ”

Bond smirked at Q, who frowned and unmuted his end of the link. “Understood, 009. You’ll be contacted with further instructions. And for God’s sake, let medical patch you up. Q out.”

The agent on the line sounded amused and exasperated in equal measure when she replied. “ _Yes, Q. 009 out._ ”

The connection went dead and Q turned tired eyes back onto Bond. Bond held the quartermaster’s gaze until the younger man folded. “Fine. If you’re so insistent, I’ll go home. 009 will be in good hands here.” Q gestured vaguely to his team before shutting his station down, snatching up his bag, and marching towards the doors, listing a bit to the left as he walked.

Bond shook his head and followed after Q, wrapping one arm over the man’s shoulders and pulling him back on a straight path. Q stiffened instinctually beneath the unexpected touch but relaxed in increments as they walked. “Can I help you with something, Bond?”

“I do believe I said I would be taking you home.” Bond responded lightly.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to take me home.” Q retorted, though he sounded amused enough that Bond knew it to be only a token protest.

“Look at it this way, Q,” Bond pulled Q gently into his side with the guiding arm still on his shoulders, “Do you really have a choice?”

Q snorted inelegantly, but followed along without further protest, this time listing into Bond’s side when exhaustion began to pull at him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> [Also posted on Tumblr](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/173678907003/still-going-through-my-files-this-was-the)


End file.
